


A Proper Thank You

by IneffableScript



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Chair Sex, Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), Fluff and Smut, Gay, Gay Sex, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, No Angst, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Romance, Smut, Undressing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-19
Updated: 2019-11-19
Packaged: 2021-02-12 23:45:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21484813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IneffableScript/pseuds/IneffableScript
Summary: After Hamlet becomes a success, Aziraphale decides to properly thank Crowley for his miracle.Disgustingly romantic fic inspired by art created by @thistle_arts on Instagram. Be gentle, I haven't written anything in 15 years lol
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 289





	A Proper Thank You

**Author's Note:**

> _"Did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight! For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night.”_
> 
> \--Romeo Montague in Romeo and Juliet by William Shakespeare (As used through out this fic., Act 1, Scene 5.)

After the Globe Theater

1601

Aziraphale had stayed to finish the rest of Hamlet, munching on his grapes with much delight. He felt it would have been rude to follow the demon out of the theater and had been rather curious how the rest would turn out now with Crowley’s miracle in place. Sure enough, as soon as the demon left, more people began to show up. Aziraphale smiled, knowing that Hamlet would indeed bloom into one of Shakespeare's best all thanks to the demon. However, he wanted to properly thank Crowley, as was their custom now with one another. Actions always spoke louder than words between them. And since he would be leaving within the week, what better time than now.

He had managed to get a bottle of Sauternes of Bordeaux, even if a small miracle were performed to get their favorite sweet white wine, and headed toward the demons current place of residence. Before he knocked, Aziraphale fiddled with his ruffled collar a bit and ran a hand through his mess of blonde curls hopelessly. He knocked thrice and waited, bouncing slowly from heel to toe, till the door opened. Crowley had forgotten his glasses and was now staring at the angel with confusion in his golden eyes.

“Everything alright, angel?,” he asked in what he tried to convey as a cool tone, but failed to hide the sliver of worry that was actually there.

“Oh yes! Quite! I just thought, well, if you are not too busy, that is, that we might have a drink. Before I leave.” Aziraphale beamed at him and held up the bottle of wine he had brought.

“Ngk, well, s’alright then,” Crowley said, standing aside so that the angel could enter his room. “I-eh-am finishing up a-uh-report. Have a seat. I won’t be a moment.” Crowley took the bottle from him as he entered and pointed to a chair the angel might sit in to wait.

Aziraphale walked into the demons very modest home. It was small, but well kept. He almost chuckled at the thought of a demon actually being cleanly. But then, Crowley was never like the others, was he? Crowley went to the window and bent over a scroll he had been diligently scribbling on, feather quill laying in wait in a pot of ink. The angel noticed, of course, quiet a few books laying beside the demons work. He gave the appearance of looking over the rest of the furnishings, hands clasped behind his back, before he found his way over near the demon, to browse his collection. The demon opened the bottle of wine and poured two glasses, setting one on either side of him. Crowley, continuing his writing, scuffed as the angel appeared by his side. He knew it would be mere seconds before the angel would be perusing his small book collection.

“Same books as there always are angel,” he said over his shoulder with a smirk, pushing the cup of wine to his left toward Aziraphale.

“Oh, well, yes. But I’ve always admired your copy of Leonardo da Vinci's Codex. I still cannot believe he just gave it to you!” Aziraphale drank deeply from his cup and hummed at the sweetness filling his mouth.

“Said it was better in my hands than someone of wealth and power. He kept the other copy. Not sure what happened to it, ya know, after he’d gone.”

“I’m sure it will turn up, my dear,” Aziraphale said as he continued to browse. He looked up on the window sill, not at Crowley’s writings, but at more books. He noticed a small book with no words written on the spine. As he reached for it, curious as to what it contained, Crowley grabbed it at the same time, their fingers all but interlocking in a grasp around the book.

“Aren’t we a nosssy little angel today?” Crowley hissed at the angel.

Aziraphale drew back, as he took another long swallow of wine, the redhead could see the crimson rising in his pale cheeks.

“I-I was just curious! So sorry. Wasn’t aware that you might keep.. a journal?”

“Of sssorts.” Crowley placed the book away from the angels prying eyes.

“I had no idea you enjoyed to write! Tell me, what sort of writing do you do?,” the angel asked nervously, watching as the demon put the quill back in its pot and turned to look at him. He gulped a little too loudly as he saw Crowley smile wickedly. Then demon took a stride nearer to the angel, taking his well manicured hand into his own once more. Cerulean met gold as the demon spoke.

“_If I profane with my unworthiest hand_  
_This holy shrine, the gentle sin is this:_  
_My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand_  
_To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.”_

Aziraphale gaped at Crowley, who held tighter still to his free hand. He thought a moment and as he responded he allowed his thumb to gently graze the demons finger tips.

“_Goo-Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much,_  
_Which mannerly devotion shows in this,_  
_For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch,_  
_And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss.”_

Aziraphale moved their hands until their palms and finger tips kissed. Crowley’s eyes widened and his wicked smile turned smirk as he noticed the angel was playing along. He over looked the fact that he not so subtly called him the four letter g-word to continue their role play.

“_Have not saints lips and holy palmers too?”_

Aziraphale let a small smile danced across his lips. Crowley always hid how well he could turn a phrase, but it was no surprise, coming from such a tempter.

“_Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.”_

Oh so the angel wanted to play hard to get!? Crowley could feel the heat radiating from the angels palm and felt his own heat rising. He almost worried he would burn Aziraphale, but he was more keen to test how far he would let him go.

“_O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do._  
_They pray; grant thou, lest faith turn to despair.”_

Aziraphale began to tremble. He could feel sweat begin to collect at his brow. Was the demon really suggesting...

“_S-Saints do not move, though grant for prayers sake! Oh!” _He was losing control of his corporation, stuttering like a buffoon.

Crowley had known since the Wall of Eden that he would always need to take the long way with the angel. He looked at Aziraphale, could feel him falling apart before him. Brilliant, beautiful angel. Today he was willing to jump from that wall to see if the blonde would follow.

“_Then move not, while my prayer’s effect I take…”_

Crowley grasped Aziraphale’s hand, pulling the blonde into him, and met him the rest of the way with his lips. He had always enjoyed the plush look of the angel, but now, lip to lip, where he could feel just how plush he indeed was, Crowley would risk being smited a thousand times to feel them against his again and again. He reluctantly pulled back, partly out of fear of discorporating the angel and partly to take stock of the work he had accomplished.

“_Thus from my lips by thine, my sin is purged,_” Crowley said softly into the angels ear. He only moved away when he heard a cup fall to the floor at his feet.

Aziraphale’s head swam when Crowley’s lips left his. The room was suddenly too hot, his clothes suddenly too tight. He kept his eyes closed, afraid that if he opened them this would have all been a dream. He heard Crowley’s words ringing in his head, but he was trying to understand this feeling in the bottom of his belly. He moved to pull off the ridiculous ruffled collar that now felt like an iron clasp about his neck before he spoke again and had not realized he was still holding Crowley’s hand. He removed the material from his throat, tossing it to the side.

“_T-t-then have my lips the sin that they have took?”_

Crowley sighed, releasing a breathe he hadn’t realized he was holding. He suddenly felt thankful that his best friend had not walked out on him, had not smited him, had not even scolded him. He also hadn’t realized how much he needed to see the soft pale flesh of the angel’s neck.

“_Sin from thy lips? O trespass sweetly urged!_  
_Give me my sin again!”_

This time Aziraphale rushed to Crowley, quickly grasping him by the back of the neck and pulling him into a much deeper kiss than the first. He swiped his tongue across the demons lips, begging for passage, which Crowley more than gladly granted. Aziraphale noted that he tasted of smoked clove and cinnamon, which made the angel hum with pleasure. He only moved away enough to removed his cream colored top and gasped as the demon fell to his knees in front of him.

“_You kiss by the book!_,” Crowley laughed out, still in complete and utter surprise.

He took one of the angel’s calfs in hand and removed a heel. He kissed the toes that lie beneath the light white stockings covering them. As he did the same to the next, he removed the stockings and delighted in the soft pound of flesh that lie within his hand. As he removed the other, Aziraphale placed one hand in Crowley’s thick long locks and the other softly grasped the hair on his chin, lifting it to look at him.

“Crowley, you beautiful, foolish demon...” Aziraphale breath shudderedas he looked into the demons now wide, blown open eyes and the crimson that spread across his own face. Crowley rose to his feet, crushing his lips against the blondes as his hands worked to push the matching cream colored breeches down around his feet. The demon forgot to breath as he realized the angel not only was making an Effort, but wore no other under garments except for a thin, white flowing shirt.

As Aziraphale stepped the rest of the way out of his breeches, he reached for the demons own black breeches and pushed them down without ceremony, pleased to find the demon also did not bother with undergarments. Hepushed him into the elegant wooden chair the redhead had motioned for the angel to sit in earlier and straddled Crowley’s lap, draping his arms overthe demons angular shoulders. Crowley grasped the angel to him, one hand full of luscious curls and the other full of soft, pale buttocks. He let his finger tips dip further into the flesh there, feeling the heat that lie so close beneath them, as he licked the angels ear lobe and nipped at the skin just there behind it. Aziraphale gasped at the heat to the demons touch, his hips thrusting forward without his permission into Crowley’s still clothed upper form.

“Tell me what you want, angel. Ssssay the wordss.,” he whispered in a hiss and kissed against Aziraphale’s collar bone. He was beginning to lose control of his speech and his own Effort pressed up against the angels, the tip dripping already and causing them both to gasp at the contact.

“Allow me... to thank you properly,” Aziraphale breathed into Crowleys neck. He reached a hand between them, tooktheir lengths together in hand, and began to steadily stroke them. The angel twisted his grip in the demons hair, causing Crowley’s head to fall back.

“_O! __T__hat I were a glove upon that hand!”_ Crowley gasped, his hips twitching up into the blondes grasp. His hand that gripped the angels behind began to inch closer and closer to the inner heat that awaited there. Aziraphale became increasingly more aware of this and was glad he did not need to breathe as he pulled back, locked eyes again with his lover, and nodded.

“Yes, my star, my brave demon. Take what you will have.”

“_O speak again, bright angel...” _Crowley whispered softly as he slipped a single, long finger into his angel and watched his face intently. Aziraphale’s head and back arched into the demon, his strokes stopping, his mouth falling a gape. His eyes danced across the ceiling, eye lashes fluttering before shutting completely. “Tell me what it feelssss like angel.”

“L-like a fire that wishes to consume me. L-like we… are are one, but separate all the same. I need… oh Crowley….more...” the angel thrust down hard upon Crowley’s hand as he slid a second finger in and slowly began to curl them inward, only gently teasing the angels prostate.

Crowley was enjoying the sight of Aziraphale more far gone than he had ever seen him before. He was proud to he could cause the Principality to beam as bright as the sun, curls beginning to flatten across his forehead, eyes fluttering open and closed like the tide coming and going, and lips plump, red, and wet with saliva. He suddenly wondered what sounds he could make come from the angel by curling his fingers in deeper and was pleasantly met with a long, broken moan in response. He kissed along the angels neck and Adam’s apple, leaving a trail of tiny scorch marks in his wake.

“Please Crowley… please...” Aziraphale pulled hard on the red hair in his grasp. His thrusts against Crowley’s fingers were without rhythm and his fist trembled around their now cum slick lengths. Crowley removed his fingers from his lovers hole, receiving a pretty whine from the angel due to the sudden loss.

He took Aziraphale’s trembling hand from around their cocks and kissed and licked the fingers, palm, and wrist clean of the sticky reminisce before draping it back over his shoulder. He finally removed his other hand from the angels wet curls and place one on each side of the blondes voluptuous hips that continued to thrust and rotate in his hands. Aziraphale finally understood what the demon was doing and assisted by lifting himself up on his knees that were on either side of the chair. Crowley reluctantly released one handfulof skin, barely noting a scorched hand print left just there, to align his cock with the angels now readied hole. Before Crowley could even think of gently thrusting into his angel, he found himself completely engulfed within him. The angel had not only miracled Crowley’s cock slick and ready, but had dropped down fully onto his cock faster than Crowley could say The Arrangement.

Aziraphale let out a wrecked moan while Crowley could only manage a gasp. Aziraphale rested his head against the demons chest, his whole body trembling. It was taking everything in Crowley to not discorporate. He knew he was shaking as well, but did not even realize his mouth was open until it was met with an angelic mouth. There was a snap, Crowley felt the air change about him, and then he released the angel had miracled away the rest of his clothes. He huffed a shaky laugh and brought his hand up to lift the angels chin. Eyes met again, but only for a split second as Aziraphale leaned in to kiss Crowley.

This kiss was not rushed, rough or greedy. This kiss somehow said everything they could not say just then. Aziraphale gently hummed into his demons mouth, pleased that Crowley was allowing him to fully express himself for once. Crowley wrapped his arms around the angel, to really feel the velvet skin of his shoulders on his finger tips, one hand sliding up to the nape of his neck to gently push the blonde deeper into the kiss. Aziraphale’s hands found their way back into Crowley’s hair, but he was now gently raking them through the long flaming locks.

As they continued to kiss, somehow grounding each other, Aziraphale slowly began to move back up the length of Crowley. As he dipped his tongue back into the demonssinnful mouth, he dropped back down hard. He did this again, feeling the demons cock leave and fill him and sending more lightening through his entire body. He found a steady theme that Crowley sighed in relief for until the angel brought one delicate hand up to pinch one of the demons perked nipples.

“Fuck Zira… yessss...” Crowley gasped when he realized the name slipped from his mouth. He looked away from the angel, only to find a pale hand upon his cheek.

“Say… say it again, love...” Aziraphale’s breath was unsteady, but this didn’t worry Crowley as he looked into his ocean eyes. All he could see was home in those eyes.

“Zira… my angel…” He pushed his cheek deeper into the angels palm, allowing his facial hair to scruff against it. Aziraphale grasped the hair there and pulled Crowley’s mouth to his roughly, taking his bottom lip between his teeth. Crowley moaned and vaguely became aware that his hips were now thrusting up to meet Aziraphale’s in a savage way. He scratched his nails down the blondes back in retaliation, the angels mouth moving to bite the demons shoulder in reaction. He knew he was close to finishing and refused to go alone. He reached between them again to grasp the angels cock, only for Aziraphale to grab his hand.

“Cheeky little angel… do you want to cum untouccched then?” He asked, locking half lidded eyes with the Principality. The blonde only nodded. “No… ssssay it Zira...”

“Yeees, dear. I-I want... I want to come… only from fucking your cock...”

“O that issss sssso gooood angel...” The demon wrapped his arms round Aziraphale and held him to him tight, lifting him slightly. He tangled one hand into the curls again to support Aziraphale’s entire back with his forearm as he began to fuck into him with hard, deep thrusts, feeling the angel tremble and tighten around him as he pressed cleverly against his prostate again and again. The angel grasped the chair behind Crowley for more leverage and quickly began to rut his cock against the demons bare chest.

“L-look at me… my dear demon...” Azriaphale begged Crowley. He pressed his forehead to the demons, sapphire gazing into amber. “S-s-such… such gorg… lovely gold...golden eyes...”

Crowley growled deep in the back of his throat, feeling the burn deep down in his belly of his approaching orgasm. His voice dropped to a wrecked whisper as he asked Aziraphale for one thing.

“Pleassse cum for me angel… I need you to cum for me Zira…,” He worried a moment he might be hurting the angel with his swift, burning thrusts, but the look in the angels eyes only read pure ecstasy and… something else. Something Crowley could not quite make out.

At the remaining sound of his new pet name trickling from the demons lips, Azriaphale’s orgasm surged through him. He clutched tightly to the demons shoulders, head thrown back as cries and whimpers fell from his lips that would be the demons name. His hips continued to thrust his spent cock against Crowley’s abdomen. Feeling the angel clench around him, Crowley dug his nails into the blondes back.

“Ah! Zira!” Crowley shouted as he followed the angel, thrusting long and hard as he came inside of him. It was like falling all over again, but no. This had to be what ascending felt like.

Both beings held each other tightly as they made their way through the haze. Crowley began to kiss Aziraphale everywhere skin came into the path of his lips, the angel simply let his head fall onto the demons shoulder and allowed the kisses for a few moments. He closed his eyes and nuzzled the demons neck with the tip of his nose and eye lashes. As the air filled his lungs again, Aziraphale became very aware that he should be leaving soon, when that was the absolute last thing he wanted to do. He leaned back to take a good look at the mess they had made.

Crowley stared at the angel with half closed eyes and a sated smirk on his face. He rested back against the chair fully, his hands finding their way back to the angel sweet, plush bottom. Aziraphale squealed, which delighted the demon very much, but caused the angel to stand.

“Honestly dear, I-I should be going. You know. Edinburgh.” Aziraphale snaped his finger and was suddenly as well dressed as when he entered the apartment.

Crowley gazes up at the angel imploringly from the chair, still stark naked and cover in their cum. He was begging the angel to stay from the look in his amber eyes. The angel steps forward and reaches out a hand, allowing it run down Crowley’s chest slowly. He lets his finger tips run through some of the cum still on the demons chest and as he pulls it away, he brings those fingers to his own mouth and sucks them gently. Crowley watches awestruck as the angels face glows as though he’d just eaten the finest cake in all of England. Aziraphale tasted sweet on his own tongue, yet slightly smoky from Crowley’s own sweat. The angel leaned down and kissed the demon deeply, allowing him to taste as well.

As he pulled away, Aziraphale brought his hand up to cup Crowley’s cheek.

“_Parting is such sweet sorrow_,” the angel whispered lovingly into the demons ear. Before the demon could grasp the angel again, he pulled back, but only enough to kiss the demons neck below his ear.

“But the memory of you fucking me will sustain me until we meet again, my dear.”

“Angel!” Crowley gasped, a wicked smirk covering his face, feeling proud that he may have had a hand in angel’s new vocabulary.

Aziraphale beamed at the demon one last time and went to the door to leave. As he opened it, something fell with a thud to his feet. He heard a snap and looked behind him to find Crowley dressed and rather red in the face. He looked down and realized that the thud was none other than William Shakespeare. The man laughed nervously looking back and forth between the angel and the demon.

“Oops! Clumsy me! I-I came to speak with the master of the house, but… I… I forgot something… something at the Theater! I’ll just go and fetch it!” The writer got quickly to his feet and all but ran away as he wrote furiously on a scrap of paper.

Aziraphale looked from him to Crowley and back again before realizing what had happened. Aziraphale flushed deeply, a hand shooting to cover his mouth.

“Oh you don’t suppose he… I… Well...well goodbye dear!," The angel stuttered.

“Yeah, bye angel...” The demon chuckled to himself and licked his lips, still tasting angel there as the door closed.

_A fortnight later_

Crowley walked passed the Globe Theater, painfully aware that his angel would not be among the patrons there. He would not enter the theater again until the angel was home, he would not see another play without him, and as he stopped to write another romantic phrase in his journal about his angel, he certainly was not paying attention to the flyers laying about with the title of the current play scrawled across them: _AN EXCELLENT CONCEITED TRAGEDIE OF ROMEO AND JULIET._


End file.
